


Happy Anniversary

by TheonSugden



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, self-harm mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5351903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fic for the one year anniversary of the first day Aaron and Robert kissed/had sex. Essentially, a look at where Aaron's head is at now, when met by Robert in the portacabin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Anniversary

Aaron leaned back in his chair, feet on his desk, beer in his hand. This wasn’t his portacabin, technically, but it was close enough…and the closest thing he had to a hideaway.

Mam was doing better, and the one-man lynch mob of flippin’ Doug had gone to knit himself a new cardie, so Aaron could try to relax.

Never managed to do it at the pub. He used to kip at Vic and Adam’s before… too many befores to count now. Being at Wishing Well just made him feel like a stranger, and the times they tried not to made it even worse. Garage was locked up more often than it was open these days. At the farm he’d just end up seeing Andy like at Vic’s, or he’d see Moira, who knew something was wrong with him, and just knew not to ask. And those weren’t his places anyway. They’d been there long before him and would be long after. 

This was his place, his and Adam’s. A place he could just sit, get half-cut, sleep it off, if he managed to sleep. A place he could listen to whatever he wanted, instead of hearing about steppin’ into flamin’ Christmas 500 times a day. He was too busy steppin’ in flamin’ dog shit from Scrappy. 

Still a better present than he probably deserved. 

Scrappy got into a barking frenzy about then, making Aaron wonder if he could read minds or something, until the door suddenly opened. 

“It’s you,” he said, with more than a hint of contempt, as Robert walked in.

Robert was sheepish as he made his way to a chair.

“Just wanted to check on my investment.” 

Aaron rolled his eyes, clutching his last can like lost treasure.

“We had some good times here,” Robert said, spreading his legs, consciously or unconsciously reminding Aaron of just how many of those good times had involved that very position in that very chair, half-dressed, undressed, kissing and cursing, riding Robert until the legs - man and manufactured - had just about broken off.

“Yeah,” Aaron said as he tugged at the front of his jumper, embarrassed at his memories, unsure how he was supposed to answer. 

“I can’t believe it’s been a year,” Robert ventured, studying Aaron’s face in the dim light of the desk lamp.

Aaron took another sip. Liquid courage. 

“Worst year of me life,” he said, waiting for Robert to flinch, not as happy as he’d expected when Robert finally did.

Robert looked down at his fingers. 

“I’ve had worse.”

Aaron probably had too - or maybe he’d just let himself feel more pain and hurt back then. Maybe the flesh he’d cut from himself had taken away those parts of him that could feel. 

“Not sure if Andy has. Or Diane.”

Robert nodded.

“Or Kerry. Or Dan. I know, Aaron.”

Aaron sneered at the flip tone from Robert, even if he knew part of it was put on.

“Ya know but ya just don’t care, right?”

Robert stood up, towering over Aaron as he grabbed the spare beer, cracking it open with those thick fingers that had always felt so right on the back of Aaron’s neck.

“Of course I care, but what good does caring do? Does it bring Katie back? Or Val? Or any of the rest? Or does it just make me feel better?”

Aaron clutched his own can tighter in his hand, wishing he could argue back.

Robert faced away from him, talking to the wall.

“When there’s nothing I can do, I just - I move on.” 

Aaron wanted to tell him to live up to his talk, to not stare at him when he left rooms, not mentally undress him like he hadn’t already had more than a few peeks under the bonnet. To let him go.

Then he remembered their kiss the year before, their first kiss, the first kiss where Aaron hadn’t felt really awkward or scared, even though he should’ve that time, of all times, with Robert Sugden of all blokes. 

He still dreamed about that kiss. He dreamed about it as much as he dreamed about Katie, or Jackson, or his mam.

The more he tried to stop, the more he dreamed it.

And the more Robert stood over him, the way he was now, wearing that cologne that smelled like dead leaves dipped in lemon juice and that tatty old brown leather jacket, wearing the snug blue jumper he’d worn a year ago when he’d first taken Aaron’s breath away…

“I guess I’d better go. I just wanted to make sure -”

“Yeah. Ta,” Aaron managed, not wanting to think about what he might have done if Robert hadn’t wanted to go.

Before Robert could run the Scrappy gauntlet one last time, Aaron, not really stopping to think about it, took the last beer, the one he’d had hidden from Adam at the back of the bridge behind some stinky sandwiches, and threw it to Robert.

“Cheers,” Robert said, not managing to keep the half-grin-half-smirk off his face. “Cheers and happy anniversary.” 

Aaron waited until he was gone to stop fighting the grin of his own.


End file.
